


Osatrice (Working Title)

by AngelWithA9Mil (rdorman)



Category: We Made Our Own!!
Genre: Dark vs. Light, Denial, Elves, F/M, Humans, Love, Maheegan (Wolf People), Mating Bonds, Nelle's Mood Swtiches So Fast It'll Give You Whiplash I Swear!, Original work - Freeform, fae, mind-reading, switching POVs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-22 06:10:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11961354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rdorman/pseuds/AngelWithA9Mil
Summary: Doranelle is a busy Fae. She has raised the King, and his two children. She now works as their tutor, and acts as his eldest's best friend. She also is a court healer with water magic. She is also a warrior with fire magic. And her life will change drastically from the moment she lays eyes on the man with the ears and tail of a wolf.





	1. Chapter 1

Doranelle rubbed the space between her brows as the autumn air swirled around her dark red cloak. It had been a long day in Ectarin.

Princess Nereena had needed a contraceptive tonic, as well as a tonic for headaches and one for sore muscles. Doranelle supposed she deserved it, though she would never admit that aloud.

Prince Aiden, fire-wielder that he was, had nearly burnt a fair deal of his sitting room during their lessons today. It had taken her all of a minute to drench him in water before he did, but it had taken an hour after that to console and calm the distraught and raging prince. Doranelle knew that was a fair reaction to have. She had had the same reaction when she had been learning.

King Elwyn had needed reports on his children and his soldiers and guards, though she had omitted the part about the contraceptive. The King had then asked her to sit and talk with him for a good hour or two, saying that he missed his “dear friend, Nelle.”

The list went on.

Doranelle dropped her hand, shaking her head to lose the thoughts. A strand of her golden hair ripped loose from under her hood, and she didn’t bother to catch it.

She needed rest, and she was hoping to get it when she got home. Maybe she would even open a bottle of mead. It _had_ been a long enough day...

Lost in thought as she was, it took longer than it should have for her delicately pointed ears to pick up the sounds of a fight. Despite the long day she had had, her curiosity peaked.

Wishing she had more than two daggers, a knife, and her magic on her, Doranelle stepped off of the dirt road leading away from the castle and followed her ears, and then her nose, to find...

Doranelle froze at the edge of the small clearing and swore under her breath.

To call the creature a troll or a giant was an insult to true trolls and giants, but seeing as how it’s true name had been forgotten long before her birth, those were indeed names which they were called by.

The hulking, brutish creature seemed to be made entirely of stone. Doranelle knew, however, that its hide was supple. The coloration and strength were merely for camouflage and protection. It’s massive body could easily pass for a mound of mossy boulders if it were to lay down and close it’s eerily dark eyes.

Eyes that now turned to her, as the wind shifted. It was blowing her scent right toward it.

Doranelle was about to draw her knife from her basket when a very human voice sounded from behind the troll.

“Damn!” A dark haired man appeared as he danced around the creature, trying to draw it’s attention. A long, wooden staff was in his hands. “Get out of here, lady! Run! It’s not safe!”

Truer words had never been said. She hated fighting trolls, but if he was going to try to fight it with just a staff...

Cursing herself as a fool, Doranelle flung a hand and a thought out and smiled darkly as the creature bellowed. While the troll was distracted, she ran to the man and grabbed his wrist. She didn’t pause to think about the darkness that was just barely visible around him. “Trolls don’t die nicely. Come on!”

She threw another thought out, burning the beast from the inside out, and it bellowed again in agony.

She half pulled the man from the clearing, as the trolls dying screams pierced the air.

 

\----

 

Zev let himself be dragged away from the troll by the small, cloaked young woman. She was either very brave or very foolish. “Very brave,” he decided as the smell of magic and burning troll fat caught his nostrils.

They came to the dirt road Zev had been on earlier, and the woman stopped. He realized that she wasn’t out of breath.

The wind still blew her scent at him and he smelled everything about her. She wasn’t a woman at all. She was a Fae. A Fae with royal blood...what was she doing so far from the Fae kingdom, Saskia?

She turned to him, the hood of her blood red cloak concealing half of her face in shadow. Zev tensed, though he wasn’t sure why. “You are either very foolish or you have a death wish. No one takes on a troll without a blade. And you were going to use a staff?”

Zev bit down a laugh. No, he hadn’t been about to use a staff. He wasn’t that dumb, though she didn’t need to know that. He quickly thought up a lie. “I’m just a wanderer: an outcast because of my heritage.”

Ok, it was a half lie. Zev let his white tail swish out a bit and was pleased to see the surprise on the female’s face. Or at least, what he could see of it. “I was walking through the forest and stopped to lean against a boulder. It wasn’t a boulder.”

The Fae female - he reminded himself that Fae weren’t called men and women - smiled softly, though curiously. She pushed back her hood and Zev couldn’t help the hitch in his breath as her golden waves fell softly over her shoulders and back, catching the evening light. Her slight Saskian accent tugged her voice into an attractive lilt as she replied,  “I’ve never seen a man with a tail...”

Zev smirked, hiding the fact that he had been distracted. And that he had distracted her. “Then you haven’t ventured far enough north to see one with wolf’s ears either.” He pushed his black tipped, white ears up through his dark hair and the braids that helped conceal his ears.

His smirk deepened when he saw her eyes widened ever so slightly. Those eyes...they were blindingly turquoise. The color of the purest blue flame or tropical seas.

She kept her soft smile as she tucked a strand of hair behind a pointed ear. “I’ve not seen much yet. I’m not yet old enough to have experienced everything.”

No kidding. The Fae looked barely older than fifteen years, though as a Fae, she could be a hundred years old and still look young. Not to mention that her body told him she was certainly not fifteen.

She was short for a Fae, maybe five foot four or five at most, but her figure was full of curves and lean muscles. It was very much an adult’s body. But her face...she looked young, but beautiful. He briefly began to wonder if she was actually a shapeshifter when her voice broke through to him again.

“Tell me, traveler, why should such lovely additions make you an outcast? My own heritage makes me highly sought after, especially with the differing types of magic that has been passed down my family line.”

Zev earnestly replied, “Men have always feared that which they cannot understand, and hated that which cannot be controlled. I am the only one of my kind that I have seen in many years of wandering the wilderness. A few have even tried to bargain with me to join their circus of traveling oddities.”

He continued with downcast eyes, beginning to burn with silent rage, “Many more have tried to capture me for studies. None have succeeded thus far. While your kind is gifted in healing, I possess far darker power. One I struggle to control at times. It has protected me, though it has branded me an outcast, as well. One to be hunted and destroyed. A legend to teach children to fear.”

The Fae was quiet for a moment. And another. He was starting to wonder if she would respond, when she spoke softly.

“My kind can sense darkness and evil has a strong scent. Though darkness follows you, it does not flow through you. There is no scent of evil clinging to you...”

“I do not submit myself to the darkness that pursues me, hence why I’m not overtaken by the savagery like those you hear tales of roaming the wilds by the full moon’s light and devouring the innocent.”

She smiled again. “That is very noble of you. My healing powers are great, and though I readily show the world that power, there is near uncontrollable magic in me, as well.” As she finished speaking, she held up a hand. Turquoise flames the color of her eyes danced through her fingers and reached towards the sky. Just as suddenly as they had begun, they ceased.

Zev stepped back in surprise. “You must have raw magic, to have such strong powers in very different elements.”

She smiled politely as she looked at him curiously. “What is your name, traveler? It seems I lost my manners.”

“My friends call me Zev.”

“Zev....I am Nelle. Where were you heading when you ran into this troll? And so close to sunset?”

He hadn’t distracted her, then. Slowly, he replied, “I’ve heard rumors of a demon of sorts in the great forest to the south. They say it devours the souls of its’ victims, leaving nothing but an empty shell. I intend to put an end to it.”

Nelle frowned at him. “We’ve had no such rumors here. We often trade with the kingdoms in the south, and our royals have family there. All of our travellers and traders return, though weary and in need of drink and women, but I can assure you. There is no demon to the south.”

Zev looked at her skeptically. “I shall have to establish that for myself.” He paused. “You are oddly well informed for a Fae. Your kind traditionally have wings, do they not?”

Nelle let out a laugh. “I am well informed because I work in the palace, in close contact with the Princess and the Prince. As for having wings, that is only for the Little Folk. My kind can do something much more exciting.” She smiled deviously, then with a soft flash of light and faint popping noise, she disappeared, to be replaced by a pure black wolf.

Zev yelped and lunged back in shock, his memory flashing to the last time he saw the form of the Void in another besides himself. As he examined the form of the beautiful pure black wolf standing in front of him he quickly set his mind at ease. This wasn’t the dark transfiguration of the Void. The scarlet eyes of the Void were replaced by silvery-green eyes filled with majesty and life rather than hatred and vengeance.

Zev reassured himself that this was also a Fae not one of his kind who could obtain that form. He stepped toward the beautiful and mysterious creature then with another flash and pop, she was standing there again, fully clothed. Zev inquired curiously, “How long can you maintain that form?”

Nelle shrugged a shoulder. “As long as I desire. All Fae have another form. I have found it more desirable to live in this skin. Though I must admit, I do love having a tail. I envy you a bit.”

Zev replied with an alluring charm, “I could fully take the form of a man, if I so desired. However, I would then be denying the reality of what I am and thereby denying the truth. Denying truth is walking the path of darkness.”

Nelle smiled and looked to the west. The sun was just beginning to set. “Do you travel at night as well Zev? Or will you be stopping?”

 

\----

 

Doranelle didn’t know why she had asked. All she knew was that some invisible force was goading her on, drawing her to this strange man.

Zev responded, “I travel after dark quite frequently. I find the darkness both calming and restless. Also, the creatures of the night who desire to work evil see the white tail and assume it’s fragility. Dark magic thrives at night, and I thrive on destroying those who dwell in darkness. However, I am weary of these travels and in need of information that may confirm your denial of the demon I seek.”

He must have more weapons than he let on. She wouldn’t be surprised. Not only did she have a knife in her basket, she had a short dagger strapped to her thigh and one strapped between her breasts.

Doranelle hesitated. She had seen the darkness around him. She should have been running as fast as she could away from him and that swirling mist that reminded her so much of both her brightest and darkest memories.

But she had not lied when she said there had been no scent of evil on him. The darkness had not emanated from him or flowed through him. It had simply followed.

That same invisible force pushed her on, a surprisingly warm breeze washing over her. “My home does not have much to offer, but there is a guest room for when the Princess tires of royal duties. You may stay there tonight if you wish. I must say though, I do not live inside the walls of the town. The houses there are too cramped and there is not enough nature for my tastes.”

“Thank you for your gracious offer. It has been far too long since I’ve rested on anything but a bedroll. However, I must venture into town and see what information lurks about before I can rest.” Zev began to walk toward the light of shining from the lanterns of the town gates.

“You will not make it by sundown. The gates are closed at sundown and no one goes in or out.”

His mouth curved in a devious half smile, exposing a fang similar to her own, but shorter and more broad, clearly purposed for the hunt. “Oh I don’t need an open gate to find my way into town. However, it may be wiser to not appear out of nowhere.”

Doranelle smiled enough to reveal her own fangs and turned from him. A flame sprang to life in discreet torches nailed to trees along a previously hidden path. Overhung with trees limbs that formed a tunnel, the hidden path was covered in grass and moss and always reminded Doranelle of something out of a fairy tale.

“You’re not the only gifted one here. You are still welcome to stay with me, Zev.” She started down the path, letting her dress and cloak catch the slight breeze as she turned.

Obviously astonished at the beauty and mystery of both the path that lay before him and the Fae who traveled it, Zev replied in bewildered amazement, “Gifted? Is that what you call it? Strange land this place is if those who dwell here do not fear those with power.”

Doranelle glanced over her shoulder at him as she continued, and was pleased to see he was following her. “Our kingdom does not fear power. We envy it, sure. But the non magic users do not fear or hate us. They do not show any aggression. In fact, they praise us for being healers, warriors, psychics, and entertainers. You simply have to gain the people’s trust...” She trailed off, eyes a little distant, as they reached the clearing where her cabin stood. The log and stone cabin was impressive enough, even without seeing the wall of translucent black flame encircling it.

“Strange, indeed, these lands...teeming with magic...as if the land itself was aligned with the mystic realm...” Zev mused quietly as he curiously examined the flames. “I have never seen a place such as this...so pure, untainted by darkness...”

Doranelle smiled at the child-like curiosity, then walked through the flames. She turned back to him, smiling. “I love the feeling of walking through there...”

Zev stepped cautiously through the flame, looking back in awe as embers swirled around his tail. “These flames are far different from what I have experienced. I’ve been singed by the flame of wizards from the great tower to the north west, and they felt nothing like this...”

“It is a precaution. Only those who have never let darkness taint their heart...those who could still feel love and light may pass through that flame. They are of my own making.” Nelle walked to the front door and opened it without any sign of a lock. She left it open for him and walked into her modestly furnished living room and kitchen combination.

 

\----

 

“So these are the security measures of the Fae?” Zev said playfully as he admired the workmanship of the cabin. He looked at her and saw her smiling.

“Only this Fae. Believe me, though, that flame has been tried and stands true. I haven’t made any dinner yet, so you’ll have to forgive me for the wait.” Nelle paused and bit her lip. “Would you mind if I went to put on something less constricting?”

Zev, being taken aback, shyly replied, “Certainly... I didn’t ask if you had provisions. If need be, I can go find some meat and return before the fire is ready.”

“Oh there’s no need.” She flashed a wicked smile at him. “Besides, you seem to forget that the fire is inside of me. And it is always ready.” She walked down the hallway, leaving him alone.

“Such a strange creature,” he thought, his face reddening at the thought of which fire she may have really meant. He quickly moved his thoughts along to another topic. “And so unusual for these lands to be so untainted...I mustn’t let my guard down though. I can still feel evil lurking about, far off though it may be.” He sat down heavily and began taking inventory of his supplies.

“I have steaks in the cellar, as well as fresh vegetables and mead.” Nelle’s voice shocked him, as he, deep in thought hadn’t heard her return. As she came into his sight, Zev marveled at how her white shirt was transparent enough to see the wrap holding her breasts in place. His attention was then captured by the four, long scars running over her left shoulder and down onto the shoulder blade. They looked less than a week old. His attention was ripped away from the way her braid swayed when she walked by a fire springing to place in the hearth.

“Could you move that kettle for me? I’ve had stew too often this week.” Nelle opened a trapdoor by the wall and descended into the cellar, the light of the fire revealing the shape of a dagger strapped to her thigh.

Though intrigued by both her choice of weapon and attire, Zev mentally shook himself and asked, “Just where exactly would you like this kettle, Lady?” He smirked. “Not brewing any potions tonight I take it?”

Nelle appeared at the top of the steps surprisingly fast, carrying a basket. Her wicked smile caught him off guard as she said, “Well I’ve already prepared my own potions. Unless you are requesting one, I will not be brewing tonight. On top of that, never brew in the same cauldron from which you eat. Not healthy.” She waved her hand over to the corner. “Over there will do.”

Zev moved the kettle, then watched as Nelle took a slab of stone, set it over the fire and set two cuts of red, fatty meat on it, then set to work chopping vegetables to make a salad. “How do take your meat? I like mine still walking.”

Zev smiled affably. “That depends on the company. Rare will do just fine for tonight.” He hesitated for a minute, intending to hold back his thoughts, but curiosity won out. “You make a lovely hostess. I’m surprised you don’t have the men of the town banging down your door. Especially if your cooking is as good as it smells...”

He noted a slight blush and a hint of guilt, even as she smiled politely and kept her head down. “Ah...well...in fifty years I’ve not met a man nor a male Fae worth sharing a bed with.” There was more guilt. “So I’ve not, much to my family’s dismay and outrage. I’d rather serve my kingdom as…” She rolled her scarred shoulder as she spoke. Suddenly her eyes widened and she quickly moved to finish the salad and step away from the island counter. She cleared her throat, “...as I do now.” Her hand enclosed in white flame, she reached directly into the hearth and flipped the steaks over. When she looked back, her face was neutral. “Care for a drink?”

Though his curiosity roared at him to inquire further about how exactly she served the kingdom, he pushed it aside. “Yes, thank you.” He closed in on a different topic. “Crass though it may be, I have to ask how old you are. You did open the door ever so slightly...did you say fifty years? You don’t look older than twenty.” No she didn’t. She still looked fifteen, despite the way she carried herself and her choice of clothing. However, Fae were long lived. She could be as old as he was and still look that young.

A smile lit her face as she pulled the cork off the bottle of mead. “That is a fair question. I am sixty-seven years old. I Settled at twenty-one. That is, I gained my near immortality.” Zev watched as she ignited a small flame in the bottom of both cups, then poured mead over top of it. As she handed him a cup, he saw that the flame still burned under the drink.

“The immortal life....favored gift and dreaded curse...” He stared into the flames of the hearth fire and took a small sip of mead, surprised at the richness and warmth that small flame added.

Nelle’s voice broke through his thoughts, “Zev...how old are you?”

Zev smiled dully and continued to stare into the flames. “Old enough to have lived more lives than a man has right to. Yet death has never been far from my side, as if to become a friend, but never trusted to be an ally...”

Nelle’s eyes filled with curiosity and awe and, to Zev’s surprise, desire and envy. “Oh the stories you could tell...the kingdoms you must have seen fall and rise...if only you had come to our little kingdom sooner. The army would benefit from a warrior with your talents. We are always looking for strong, magic-wielding warriors to make sure that any and all evil is eradicated. To keep the peace in our lands and that of our neighboring kingdoms...to wipe out demons...”

Her face was red once again, and he couldn’t help but notice how it made her freckles stand out even more. She set down her cup, now empty of drink and flame and moved over to the hearth, hips and braid swaying with every step.

As Nelle reached her flame engulfed hand into the fire, Zev said, “I may be aged beyond many, but I still consider myself a young wanderer. I’ve seen many rise and the same fall. My tutor once told me an old saying...I always scoffed at it, rejecting it as foolishness. He said ‘Die as a Legend, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.’ As time went on, I was forced to accept this saying as I watched my mentor of many years become corrupted by the very darkness he taught me to destroy.” He noticed her staring at him with eyes full of pity, even as she set the steaks on the plates she had laid on the table. “That is a story for another day. Let’s eat!”

Nelle refilled her cup and brought it and the bowl of salad to the table. “Help yourself. I’m sure it’s been an age since you had real food.”

Without thinking, Zev replied, “It has been longer since I had company to dine with. And I must say, never have I dined with someone quite like you.”

Nelle blushed brighter red than before and stuttered out, “Oh...uhm...t-thank you...” She quickly dug into her steak then, as Zev looked on in bewilderment.

“Have I said something offensive, Nelle?”

She seemed to blush even darker then. “N-No...I am just not used to compliments...I do not often have company, other than the Princess now and then...forgive me! My face does not normally get this red.”

Zev suppressed a smile at her look of mortification. He looked down at his dinner, trying for the life of him to not laugh. “I was unaware that your kind could blush.”

“W-well of course we _can_ ! We typically have better control over our features.” He looked up, trying not to smile at the hysteria creeping into her voice and her nervous attempts at cutting her steak. “I-I mean, our ancestry _is_ half human and curse this knife why is it not sharp!” He sat back in surprise as the knife went flying across the room, burying itself to the handle in the wall. He looked back at her with wide eyes, to discover she was now using the dagger to cut her steak, her face still red.

Zev swallowed hard, schooling his face into a neutral mask before changing the topic. “So...you have mentioned this Princess several times now. How did you become her confidant?”

Taking the bait, she responded, “Oh. Well...to put it nicely, she doesn’t exactly have the best taste in bedfellows. I’ve helped her out of one or two rough spots and brewed a potion of sorts that helps control her urges, to put it nicely. Not to mention I practically raised her.”

Curious, he looked up at Nelle. “So she’s often given to impulse?”

Nelle nodded. “Quite. She will often ask to spar with me simply so that she can fawn over the soldiers who are practicing at the time. She’s quite fond of the Captain of the Guard, and I must say she is a bit jealous at how well he and I know each other. Even more so when he asks to spar with me and realizes I’ve been taking it easy on her.” She smirked. “We act like sisters more than anything else, though I am decades older than her.”

Zev frowned. “I would say that is rather unbecoming of royalty, to say the least. No doubt her youth has much to do with it, though.”

Nelle smiled. “She has a heart of gold and raw magic lurks inside her. I wish she would let me help her pull it to the surface. Her younger brother, the Crown Prince, has almost uncontrollable raw magic. Luckily, his forms as fire. I tutor him six days a week so that when he takes the throne, he will not have shoved it away...or worse, let it take him over...” She frowned suddenly and cast a glare at the bottle between them. “I talk too much when I drink...” She shrugged and poured another cupful for them both, and Zev wondered just how much she would drink tonight.

“By all means, Nelle, please continue. Tell me more about this kingdom and it’s people.”

She smirked at him and he noticed it brought out a dimple on her right cheek. “I worry you may be learning a bit too much about the royal family. Our people are not wealthy, but they do not starve and by no means are considered poor. We are a prosperous kingdom, and our income increases each year. We have numerous trade partners to the North and South.

“Our land is pure, and untouched by the evils of war or plague. Our battles are always fought on foreign soil, and always to squash out evil before it may grow more powerful. Our military is made of men, many of whom possess magic of some sort. There is only one woman in the military and nobody knows her face. They call her the Dragon. She has defeated some of our greatest enemies with waves of fire, nearly single-handedly.

“Our healers are some of the best in the land, and pure, good magic is welcomed in our little kingdom. We accept the outcasts of foreign nations, and help them use their powers or skills for the good of the kingdom.”

Zev sat back, processing this torrent of information. He couldn’t help but think that it sounded as if she had said it before. “That sounds too good to be true. And yet, you’re still leery of the outsider?”

Nelle finished her last bite of salad. “Just protecting my home.” She picked up the empty plates and took them over to a basin to be washed later. Zev leaned back in his chair, feeling full and satisfied by her cooking. He watched as she wiped her dagger clean and returned it to the sheath on her thigh, then returned to her seat.

“No harm in that. One can never be too cautious these days...” Zev replied with a relaxed tone.

She worried her lip for a moment. Then slowly started, “Because my tongue is loose and I’ve already mentioned my own lack of love life, how is yours? An ageless wanderer...surely you must have many scorned lovers...” She smiled childishly and he tried not to stare at the generous view her loose shirt gave as she leaned forward. Her head rested on a slack fist, perfectly oblivious to the picture she formed.

Zev shook his head slightly. “I believe that mead is taking effect.” He smiled and gave in to her question. “Regretfully, there is no scorned lover waiting for my return. Though it pains me to say it, I would rather it be this way. I could not bear to watch from above as news reached her ears that I would not be returning home. So I remain a loner, a wolf with no pack.”

Without a second’s hesitation, she offered, “You could always stay in this kingdom. Our military would happily take you. You could meet the Dragon. And in the meantime, I’m technically half wolf, too. I’ll be your pack.” Her face reddened and she looked mortified. “I think you’re right about the mead...”

Zev chuckled at Nelle’s expression, then stood and walked toward the window. “I thank you for your kindness. All the same, believe me when I say you want nothing to do with me. There is nothing but pain and sorrow on the path I travel.” He looked up. “There is a full moon tonight. Perhaps it is more than the mead talking.”

The clatter of a chair hitting the floor caused him to turn. Nelle stood with her hands on the table and a gold tint to her skin. Heat waves seemed to be radiating from her body. “Damn it all Zev! There is more goodness in you than you care to realize. Stop wallowing in self pity and reveling in your loneliness and learn how to care about the world and people around you. So what you have a dark power? I’ve known many who have darker powers and have been the farthest thing from corrupt! My own mother has the power to bring a swift death without leaving a trace, and yet she is one of the most powerful, pure-hearted, and talented healers the Fae world has ever seen!”

Her hair had completely escaped from its braid at this point, and it danced around her as frantically as the golden flames emanating from her very skin. “Not everyone who has darkness around them brings death and sorrow and damn it if I am beginning to care for you then you can not be all bad. You’re right about one thing, though. It is not just the mead. For once I have spoken from my heart, and you had damn well better listen!”

Zev stared solemnly at the flaming female as his own temper began to flare, “You know nothing of my care for this world. You think I wander out of selfish pity? You know nothing of the evil that waits right at your very doorstep. I have been fighting to keep that evil at bay since before you were even a pixie sprinkle in your mother’s cupboard.” He stepped forward, regaining his grip on the calm demeanor he was struggling to keep. “All the same, I admire your boldness and candor. It is rare indeed to find one as genuine of heart as you. I do hope you find what you search for in the depths of your own soul. I apologize for frustrating you...perhaps it would be best for me to take my leave.”


	2. Chapter 2

The world spun around Doranelle and her flame went out. Somewhere deep inside, she knew she couldn’t bear to let him leave. She stuttered, “Please stay...i-it’s not safe to travel these woods at night, even for one fit to be a warrior. I’m sorry...my temper got the better of me...” She looked down at the scorched wood beneath her hands and frowned. She’d have to get a new table if she didn’t get a hold on herself. “It’s been years since anyone has gotten that strong of a reaction from me. Quite honestly, Zev, you fascinate me. I beg your pardon.”

To her surprise, he smirked at her. “You’re quite the hothead when upset. I’d hate to be the one to put that temper to the test.”

She unconsciously moved a hand to the hilt of her dagger and smirked back at him. “I typically have a better handle on that temper...similar to my control over my features. Only drink or...sparring brings that temper to surface. Though the Captain does seem to think he could bring that fire out a different way...as I said before though. Not worth sharing a bed with.”

“I’ve come to know most military men as the kind to not let grass grow beneath their feet. Not every soldier, but most have one priority: to conquer. Once that is accomplished, there is no intention of sticking around. The conquest is then over for them. Although, as Captain in the army he must be capable of holding his own in a  _ sparring  _ contest with you.”

Doranelle caught the emphasis in his words and felt fire beginning to creep back into her veins. “What do you believe my meaning to be, Zev?” She bit down on her tongue to help her concentrate.

Zev’s brow furrowed. “I meant sparring. What else would I have meant?”

Doranelle’s face reddened and she felt the fire just beneath her fingertips. “One never knows...many times have I been accused of sharing a bed with one or another military men...because of our friendships...” After nearly piercing her tongue with a fang, she gave up and walked swiftly to the counter where a pitcher of water sat. Without a second’s hesitation, she picked it up and poured it over her head.

Slowly he answered, “I refrain from speaking of such things being that I know so little about you...” As Doranelle turned back to face him, his eyes widened and his jaw went slack. “Y-you’ve...you, uhm...” He grabbed his jacket from the back of his unoccupied chair and shoved it at her, eyes averted.

Brows furrowed, Doranelle stared at the jacket, utterly confused. She looked down at herself and realized her white shirt was soaked through. She burst out laughing. “Oh come now! Surely you have at least  _ seen _ a female’s body before! I have a wrap on for heaven’s sake!” She shrugged out of the soaked shirt, careful to avoid letting her hair touch the painful scars on her shoulder, and bunched it into a ball. “And I will not be wearing your jacket, so put it down.”

Zev shifted uncomfortably, but set down the jacket. “It has nothing to do with if I have seen one before...it’s something civilized folk call chivalry.”

Doranelle stared up at him, amused at the amount of sarcasm in his voice. “Well then, I suppose you would find my people uncivilized. This is not exactly uncommon attire. Everything of importance is covered. So what is the issue?”

“Covered or not, I was trying to be polite. I don’t know what is so hard to grasp about that.” She smiled a little wider at how obviously flustered he was. He turned his gaze on her then. “What was that all about? What had you hotheaded enough you needed to...do that?”

Doranelle flushed a bright red and looked away quickly. “N-nothing...I’ll show you to your room now...”

She felt his eyes boring into her back as she walked away. She faintly heard him mutter, “Very well then,” and the sound of his pack hitting his back. She sighed and shook her head a bit. The mead was definitely getting to her.

Doranelle stopped outside of two doors across the hall from each other. She turned to face him and pointed to the one on his left. “This will be your room for the night. If you need anything, I’m right across the hall. I’ll leave my door open. There’s a fireplace, but if you light one, be careful. Natural fire gets a bit frisky around me...”

Zev huffed a laugh. “I think I can handle a little fire.” Doranelle thought she saw a wink before she turned, but she wasn’t sure. She was sure, though, that she was tempted to shoot a strand of fire at his rump to see how he would handle  _ that _ . She shook her head again and went into her modest room, leaving the door wide.

As Doranelle stood in front of her dresser braiding her wet hair, she contemplated the strange turn her day had taken. She could not comprehend what had prompted her to offer him a place to stay, not to mention to stand half naked in front of him. She hadn’t worn something like that in front of anyone in forty-six years. 

She shook her head and pulled out a night shirt, then stripped off her damp wrap and pants. She glanced at the nightshirt, then sighed, shrugged, and turned from it. Eyes already half closed, she fell face first into her bed, with no intentions of moving again until morning arrived.

 

\----

 

Zev knew he shouldn’t be standing there. Not when she was clearly getting ready for bed still. Not without announcing himself. But he couldn’t move. Could do nothing but admire the way the waves of gold danced in the moonlight from her window, even tied back into a braid. 

His eyes widened when her pale skin was fully exposed. The shadows cast by the moon showed just how lean and toned every muscle was. Zev moved quickly into the shadow as she started to turn. He smiled then, seeing her eyes were nearly closed already.

After Nelle not so gracefully fell into bed, and he contained his laughter, he called out, “Hey, you drunkard!”

She groaned and motioned a crude gesture at him. “What do you need and do I have to put on clothes?”

Zev smiled wider. “Where might I find a towel. I thought to bathe so as not to soil your linens.” He smirked. “So much for modesty.”

“Th-there are extra towels in my closet.” Her face burned bright red and she crawled under the covers when she thought his back was turned.

“Thank you,” he said. A cold breeze filled the room as he walked across the room to her closet. It smelled entirely too much like her. He heard a fire crackle to life and he smiled, pleased that his magic was taking effect.

Nelle’s voice reached him from under the covers. “They should be on the right in the third drawer from the top, as soon as you walk in. Don’t go any further back in there.”

His curiosity peaked. “Why not? You got a skeleton hiding in here somewhere?” He looked around and saw the faint glint of metal. He took a step toward it, then heard the mattress groan.

“No, but that’s where I keep my weapons and...other stuff. Just don’t go back there.” He shrugged and stepped back to the drawers. 

“I see...weapons...right.”  He increased the effects of his magic.

“Why is it so damn cold in here!?” 

Zev smiled and grabbed the first towel he saw and walked out of her closet. “It isn’t that cold...” He looked to the open window and back to her. He controlled his features as he took her in, sitting up on her bed with only the sheet pressed to her chest. “Must be the autumn breeze you're feeling...what happened to that fire on your face?”

She frowned at him. “What fire?”

“Your face was blazing red...” He remarked sardonically.

“S-so what?!” Color crept into her cheeks and she dropped her head into her hands, letting go of the sheet entirely.

Zev swallowed, then snarkily commented, “And I thought my swords were sharp.”

“Can I do nothing right tonight?” She fell backwards onto her bed, chest bouncing as well. He looked away. “I give up!”

He smiled a bit and said, “I’m not sure how you figure that one. I’ll leave you to your brooding. I’m going to go wash up. Good night.” He made his way to the door and was almost out when she spoke again.

“Hey! Zev! What’s on your tail?”

Shit. He paused and decided to play dumb. He turned back and smiled innocently. “What do you mean?”

She was sitting up again. How could she not remember to grab the covers when she did that? “Th-there’s a blue streak on your tail! That wasn’t there before...was it?”

Nelle looked so confused, he had to give in. “Oh, that? That only happens when I’m using my magic.” He pushed the chill in on her. “I suppose it might be a bit more than chilly in here...” He smiled slyly.

Zev knew he had made a mistake. Her face was red and full of rage as a line of orange fire slashed across his shoulder. “Lord above, that hurt!” He yelped.

“You ass! How dare you?!”

He stared at her, shocked that she would actually use her magic that way. “Was that really necessary?”

Her face was no longer outraged, but full of shame and confusion. He wished she would go back to rage. “As necessary as what you did. It won’t leave a mark...why did you do that?” She gathered the covers around her.

“It was just a bit of fun. All I did was put a bit of chill in the air. It got you under the covers, didn’t it?” He smiled warmly.

Nelle looked away from him. “I would have gotten there eventually...I always do...” She lay down facing the wall, and he saw that the longest of the four scars had opened.

Zev moved to the edge of her bed and slowly sat. “You’re bleeding here, Nelle.”

Her pale face appeared over her shoulder. “It does that. Apparently these wounds won’t heal with magic. I’m going to have my first scars because I’m too stubborn and rash and my temper got the best of me again...” She looked away. “It will heal eventually...”

He contemplated for less than a moment. “I could close that for you. I can do nothing about the scarring, but I can cause it to not bleed again.”

Nelle lay still for what felt an eternity. Just as he had assured himself she was going to begin asking questions, she sighed and rolled onto her stomach. Her face was still turned away from him, but she replied, “Go for it. You must have some skill to have survived this long.”

Zev smirked. “Or I could be extremely lucky.” His tail and ears emitted a flame-like aura, and he noticed that it was the same color as her eyes. He mentally shook himself and gingerly reached out a hand. He gently traced the length of all four scars, an icy looking substance forming under his fingertip.

He was half tempted to leave his hand there, but he moved it away and said, “The bleeding is taken care of. They should heal more quickly now, as well.” He paused. “I’m sorry to have caused this...I meant no harm.”

She sat up and a chill ran down her body. She turned to face him, eyes half closed, and tested her shoulder.

“How does it feel?”

Nelle opened her eyes, and they flashed a dull orange. “Better...” She continued staring at him, biting her lip.

He really wished she wouldn’t do that. “Well that’s good. I’m sure I’ve caused enough trouble for one night, and I have yet to clean myself up. I’m also sure I don’t know how much more your lip is going to be able to take.” He smirked as she stopped biting and he stood. “I’ll check on you before I go to bed tonight.”

Nelle rolled her eyes. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.You just clean up and get some sleep...”

Zev half smiled. She was already close to being asleep herself. “I’ll check on you just to be safe.” He did not want to be responsible for her shoulder rejecting his magic.

He turned and left her room, finding his way to the bathroom at the end of the hall. He never would have thought he would end his day with the news that there was no demon to hunt, sharing a house, food, and drink with a Fae. He drew a bath and began to undress.

Something about her seemed very familiar. He knew not all Fae looked alike, but family members often shared very similar features. But she even smelled familiar. 

He sat and contemplated shortly about the mysterious and beautiful young Fae who sparked such curiosity in him. He thought over the many Fae he had met in days past, many of whom he had fought with and some he stood against. He pondered the powerful magic most of them possessed. Suddenly his thoughts snapped back to the present. He finished undressing and stepped into the scalding hot bath.

As Zev began to bathe, he pushed thoughts of Nelle aside. He tried to think about the demon he should be hunting. Soulless demon. Devouring the souls of others...an image of the scars on Nelle’s shoulder appeared in his mind’s eye. He knew that should mean something, but his exhausted mind couldn’t piece it together.

As Zev thought of Nelle, his mind drifted to the events that took place in the bedroom and his childish behavior. “I suppose maybe I have been travelling for far too long” He mused. “Here I am a soldier from ages past, still acting like a mere child at meeting a new friend.” He laughed to himself.

Realizing the time, he sighed and pulled the stopper from the drain. He stepped from the tub and dried off, then yawned. It had been a physically, mentally, and emotionally taxing day. 

Zev wrapped the towel around his waist, gathered his clothing and walked back down the hall. He tossed his bundle of clothes onto his pack in the guest room before turning to Nelle’s door.

Nelle was asleep, but tossing and turning, caught in the midst of a nightmare. He frowned as he sensed the darkness of her nightmare flowing through his magic. Not only could she open the scar before his magic absorbed, but he couldn’t leave her to such an obviously terrifying nightmare. “Nelle.” She mumbled something and he stepped forward, pinning her shoulders down. “Nelle! Nelle! Wake up!”

 

\----

 

_ The footsteps came crashing through the trees. But it was too late for her. She wouldn’t be able to escape this evil. It would be her end. But she’d be damned if she didn’t end it in the process. _

_ “Nelle!” _

_ They were going to get caught by the demon. “GET AWAY! RUN!” She kept swinging her sword, but it hit only air. _

_ It had her by the shoulders now. She wouldn’t be able to escape. _

_ “Nelle!” _

_ Pain ripped through her shoulder. _

_ “Nelle! Wake up!” _

Her eyes shot open and fell on Zev. They felt red hot in her skull but quickly calmed. The demon. Where was it?

“Hey...you gotta lie still if you want that scar to heal properly...”

Scar...heal...

Doranelle glanced down at her shoulders. Zev...it was Zev holding her down...it had been a nightmare. Another one. An image of her mother appeared in her head: her long, golden hair swaying in the breeze that was always around her, her canine, amber eyes hardened to stones in disappointment and betrayal. Her mother...her eyes teared up. 

“I’m sorry Zev...sometimes...I think my mother was right. Girl’s aren’t made for battle...no matter what they are made of.” She sniffed as a tear leaked out of her eye. “And then my blasted temper wins out, but then...they never leave you...the faces never leave you...” She knew she wasn’t making sense to him. She didn’t care. A long, long list of faces was running through her mind’s eye.

Zev’s halting voice broke through to her. “While your mother is right in theory, there are exceptions to every rule...whatever path you have chosen, decisions must be made. Then you are left to live with the consequences...you must make peace within yourself, Nelle. Or you will be your own undoing. The road will be long, for both of us. But you’re still a youngling yet.”

Doranelle stared up at him, shocked that he actually understood her. Then she realized his right hand was still on her shoulder. And then that he had no shirt. She glanced down and her cheeks heated as she quickly looked back up. “Zev...why are you only wearing a towel?”

Zev’s face turned a brilliant shade of red and he stuttered, “I-I told you I was going to bathe!” She smiled at how quickly he became flustered and noticed that his face would have looked healthier with even a fraction of that color. “And you’re naked! What difference does that make?”

Nelle smiled deviously. “ _ I _ am under the covers.” She repeated his earlier words back at him. “I didn’t know your kind could blush.”

He stood quickly and she propped herself up on an elbow. A veil of blue covered his body and his face drained of color. His voice was clipped and cold when he spoke. “You just take it easy on that wound there. You know where I’ll be should you need anything.”

Zev began to turn, but Doranelle wasn’t willing to let him leave on such a bitter note. Quietly, she said, “I was just messing with you, Zev. There’s nothing wrong with blushing...you looked good...healthier...”  _ More handsome. _ She quickly shut that thought out.

Zev sighed. “You mean more human.” He turned back to her. “Good night Nelle. Sleep well. We have much to do tomorrow.” He left without another word. 

Doranelle was too deep in shock at the unnaturally purple scar midway down his back to say anything. After he was gone, she whispered a good night into the empty room and laid her head back on her pillows. As she closed her eyes, images of his face floated in front of her closed lids and she smiled. 

She fell into a peaceful sleep that was filled with dreams of a black and a white wolf running through the forests and meadows, as two faces stared across the scene at each other, one with black tipped ears, and one with turquoise eyes.

 

\----

 

Zev quietly made his way down the hall and out into the full moon’s light. He stared up at the white orb and sighed. What was he doing here? He should be in town finding what he could about the demon in the south. 

Instead, he was here. Drinking mead and dining with a Fae. A Fae with royal blood, no less. He pondered how much their stories might have in common. Zev rubbed a hand over his face. He needed to think. Needed to plan.

He needed to run.

Zev took a step forward and let his power flow around him until his white fur shone in the moonlight. The large wolf shook himself and then took off.

The night’s chill soothed and refreshed Zev as he ran. He found that he wasn’t planning. His mind was traveling to thoughts of a certain golden haired maiden with a fiery temper, disregard for clothes, and surprising precision with a thrown dinner knife.

He couldn’t lie to himself. Nelle intrigued him. Something told him there was much more to her than she let on. He could only guess what lay beneath the surface, but his years of wandering the wilderness would not let his curiosity die.

Zev found himself turning back toward Nelle’s house. He would stay, at least for the night, until he found what was so alluring about the kingdom of Ectarin and its mysterious Fae.


End file.
